


No Longer Numb

by FanfictionShadow



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, M/M, Mentions TT and YJ, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of self-harm, Sladin, Warning: multiple possible triggers, Written a few years ago, mentions of eating disorders, more characters may appear, so not my best writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 08:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12553148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanfictionShadow/pseuds/FanfictionShadow
Summary: Robin has had it. No one understands his pain. He is tired of fruitlessly trying. So he will escape in the only way he knows.Slade prides himself on not becoming attached. He sees it as his greatest weakness. But what happens when the one he is attached to the most falls right in front of him? Will either person be the same again?Note: this is slash, and this is sladin.





	1. Goodbye, Robin

**Author's Note:**

> This was written at least a year or two ago, and posted on fanfiction.net, so I'm posting it here now. Not my best work, so feel free to give constructive criticism.
> 
> I do not own Young Justice, Teen Titans, or anyone in the DCU.

Robin was tired of this. He was tired of how everyone was treating him. He had endured it; he had tried to like it. He took everything with a smile on his face.

Until now.

Ever since the Justice League was taken over, back during the first year of the team, Batman had been nasty to Robin, pushing him to perfection inside training and neglecting him outside of training. The Batcave had become filled with tension as Batman forced Robin to act like Batman himself- the one thing that Robin didn’t want to be- and then would ignore or hit Robin after he failed. Robin felt as though every step that he made, every decision, was just another mistake to Batman.

And Bruce was worse.

Bruce would just ignore Dick. That was it. He would put up a front for the media, but as soon as the cameras were pointed away, Bruce’s back was turned, and Dick was alone. Alfred would try his best, but he was Bruce’s butler through and through, and couldn’t give Dick the attention he needed. Whenever Dick felt like he was drowning in the tenseness of Wayne Manor, he would put on a pair of sunglasses and hop into the zeta tube to the Cave.

That wasn’t saying that the Cave was better, though. While Robin was ignored at the manor, he was the center of attention in the Cave. Everyone would smother him, not letting him have his space, and if a mission came up, he got the easiest job- unless a hacker was needed, then the mission became half of the Team guarding him as he received information. If there was a fight, he was immediately taken away, back to the Cave where it was “safe”. Then, behind his back, they yelled, argued, and didn’t trust him due to the fact that he was still hiding secrets from them.

Robin- no, Dick- was sick of it, of being ignored and neglected, then smothered again. He was sick of working, training, being beaten again and again just to be babied and not trusted. He was sick of the disappointment, the lack of trust, the abuse from Batman; the negligence from Bruce; the babying and smothering from the Team. He hated it; he hated his life right then. But he still soldiered on, hiding all negative emotions behind a mask, becoming numb to all of it. It was a part of his life. He had to endure it.

Dick endured it for two years, two long years of numbness. He was just an investment for the Batman, a charity-case for Bruce Wayne, and a hacker for the Team; that was all he was. He might have meant something to his true parents, but they had been dead for years, and they had probably just used him for popularity as well. Then the circus gave him up, after all, who’d want a little circus freak who doesn’t know English?

All of this was hidden. What happened in the Batcave stayed in the Batcave; either that, or Alfred didn’t care either. What happened in Wayne Manor stayed in Wayne Manor; that’s why he never told anyone his secret ID. What happened in the Cave stayed in the Cave; that’s why he never spoke to Batman about the smothering he received. Dick Grayson’s three worlds were kept apart- and Dick Grayson was kept numb.

And then everything got worse.

He had saved the civilians. He had stopped the Joker. He had saved the Batman’s life.

And he was stripped of his title- his identity- for getting shot in the chest.

Batman had taken the last thing that Dick had from his parents and torn it away; Robin was taken away from Dick the way a father would take candy from the child. But no, Bruce wasn’t his father, Bruce would never be his father; he hadn’t earned the right.

So then how did Bruce have the right to take Robin away from Dick?

Then the Teen Titans, the straw that broke the camel’s back.

He wasn’t going to start a team; he had been at Jump City to end the vicious cycle of life. But after meeting the others, he felt needed for once, and let those feelings lead him blindly.

When Slade took him, he thought that was it; the Teen Titans would never forgive him. And yet somehow they had, even though they had taken him away from the one place where Robin felt… happy.

But after the Titans defeated the brotherhood, Batman came back. Batman took away the Titans; Batman took away Robin’s last hope. And they let Batman break them up; they also mumbled about Robin’s secrets; they all left without a fight, blaming Robin about what he never did.

That was it.

Now, two years after the Team defeated the Light, a year after the Teen Titans formed, a day after Batman chased Robin away again, on Dick’s sixteenth birthday, eight years to the day his parents died, Dick has decided to take away the numbness. He’s tried before, and he now takes off his gloves, letting them drop down to the bridge below him, and looks at his attempts. Attempts that have never been noticed, just like his feelings, always hidden behind a mask-be it a physical mask or not. But no matter how hard or how deep the attempt, he was still numb as soon as the pain stopped. He wanted that pain, begged for it, yet it always left him, just like the people in his life- no, not his life, in their lives that he butted into.

A quick thought passes through his head; will anyone miss him?

No, if course not. He isn’t wanted now, he never will be. No one needs a liability, no one needs Robin.

From his utility belt he pulls out the one weapon that Batman has no idea he has, the silver knife that Zucco almost killed him with. He now wishes that Zucco did. But if that criminal can’t do it himself…

Dick will help him out.

The yellow belt on Robin’s slender, too-skinny waist is pulled off with one tug, falling down to Robin’s gloves. Next the cape is cut off, the knife running through the thin skin on Dick’s neck, as he relishes in the pain, and a jagged red line is now permanently on the Robin’s throat, never to go away. The figure on the highest suspension beam of the old bridge now takes the knife to his wrists, to the important arteries there, swiftly cutting through them, letting the life-granting blood flow out of his body. The knife is then taken to the “R” symbol and in one motion the famous symbol is flying down to the pile, blood soaking it, a completely blood-covered knife stabbing it into the top of the pile. One last thing… the mask slowly floats down, lost to the pile forever.

Dick, because he is Dick now, even in the remains of the Robin uniform, is now smiling. He tips over, and flies, flies down to the water below. He’ll now be free, he’ll now be released, and he now will no longer be numb.

And the smile never leaves, not as he hits the water, feeling bones break, breathing in the water, feeling his own body shutting down. For the first true time in over two years, he feels at peace, he feels happy, and he _doesn’t feel numb_.

 _Goodbye_.


	2. Hello, Slade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know that there's a lot of medical inaccuracies in here, but please bear with it. This is fanfiction - anything is possible.

**3 rd P.O.V. following Slade Wilson**

Slade is driving to Jump City, the next phase of his plan going through his head. Attacking the Team had not worked, as they had kept Robin away from him. Then with the Teen Titans, they took Robin away when all was right. But now Slade has a foolproof plan; Robin will be his. His heart starts to beat faster at just the thought of seeing Robin, but he starts calming himself, realizing that if he doesn’t start paying attention, all of his careful planning might go to waste.

In fact, since Slade is paying so much attention to the road instead of his fantasies, he suddenly sees a glint of silver- not moving towards him, yet it’s falling from the highest part of the suspension bridge. Slade moves his motorcycle towards where the knife is falling, and gets there just in time to see-

-the knife stabbing itself into Robin’s “R” symbol… on top of Robin’s cape, belt, and gloves… and covered in Robin’s blood.

Slade quickly looks up, just to see a figure- a small humanoid male figure- jump off the highest point of the bridge- where Robin’s items came from, where Robin’s _blood_ came from- and they’re falling, falling, and oh god that figure is Robin and he’s falling, hitting the water…

Slade immediately runs to the edge of the bridge, and dives over the edge, slicing through the water, and he quickly starts swimming, trying to find his Robin, trying to find the little boy who just decided to give up…

He surfaces for some air and immediately swims down again, trying to find his little bird, his little obsession, but the water is so dark, and one eye doesn’t give much visibility…

There! He spins, almost choking in the process, and sees a trail of scarlet, of Robin’s blood. He is then up above the waves of the river, frantically digging for his rebreather, and stuffs it in his mouth as he dives below the surface again, following that horrid trail of scarlet...

And he reaches out and brushes against skin, and he’s immediately grabbing Robin’s tiny, still- _too still_ \- form and dragging it to the surface, pulling his little- _tiny_ \- bird out and dragging him onto land. Sade turns Robin onto his back… and gasps.

The first eye catcher is where his Robin symbol was, but now it’s just blood, leaking out and staining his already red suit crimson- and oh god how he hates that color- and then he sees the cuts on his wrist, all the attempts and the last and final one, and the cut on his tiny bird’s throat, and the ribs poking out of his skin, and the blood dripping out of his tiny bird’s mouth, and the blood coating it all…

Slade starts checking for a pulse, anywhere, but he can’t find one, and his Robin isn’t breathing… Slade starts CPR, pushing hard and strong; he has to save his Robin, he has to, he has to, and he leans down and puts his mouth to his little bird’s- and oh god they never kissed Slade never got to feel his Robin’s lips on his own- and gives two rescue breaths, and then he’s back to the CPR, trying to revive his little bird, his little Robin…

And then he hears a breath, and then another, and suddenly his little bird is breathing again, and he’s alive… But he’s not safe, and Slade swiftly picks up his little boy and runs to his motorcycle, and cradles his Robin’s little body against his chest as he speeds to his hideout, frantically calling William, and hoping, praying, that he would get his dying little bird to safety in time.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**3 rd P.O.V. following William Wintergreen**

William is usually a fairly hard man to surprise. Many have tried, but few have succeeded in ruffling the feathers of the right-hand man of Slade Wilson, also known as Deathstroke the Terminator. When, however, Slade called the man to tell him to get the medical bay ready for Robin, of all people, William could say that he was unusually surprised. He did start preparing the first aid equipment, though, and now, as soon as he finishes, Slade’s motorcycle is zooming into the garage, and Slade is already up and running towards William, the young boy Robin in his hands.

“What happened?” William’s voice washes over Slade, and the mercenary stops cold, his head falling down, and his grip on the young boy grows impossibly tighter. William is confused by Slade’s uncharacteristic silence and shame. It’s almost as though something happened that Slade doesn’t want to face, doesn’t want to admit. “Slade, you didn’t hurt him, did you?”

Slade’s head immediately snaps up, and the look he gives William will stay in William’s mind forever: shock, sadness, hurt, anger, depression… the list went on and on.

“No, of course I didn’t! Why would I hurt him? I saved him after he hurt himself!”

William blinks in shock at how defensive Slade is being. Yes, of course he knew about Slade’s crush on the young bird, but he didn’t expect the feelings to run so deep. He quickly focused at the most imperative part of the sentence if Robin was to be saved. “How did he hurt himself?”

Once again, Slade surprised William by tightening his hold even more on the unmasked teen- since when was he unmasked? Was it since before he came in? - and choked out the words. “He- he tried to kill himself.”

Abandoning any other attempts at talking, William led Slade to the medical table, where he can examine the injured boy. As he takes in the damage of the small body, he can’t help but gasp, causing Slade to tense and squeeze Robin’s hand even tighter than before. Robin’s body is covered in blood. His chest, above his heart, is bleeding, and William notes the absence of the “R” symbol the boy was supposed to be wearing. His throat is cut, but not too deeply, which William is thankful for the fact that this boy would not become mute, unlike Joey. The ribs sticking out of Robin’s skin show broken ribs, the irregular breathing showed a punctured lung, and the blood trickling out of the boy’s frown showed internal bleeding. But the worst of the injuries was on the young boy’s wrists.

There were so many scars. All could be covered up by gloves or concealed by sleeves, even the deep ones… except for the two bleeding cuts that slashed up the arteries and let the blood flow. William frowns at this; if Slade is correct and Robin tried to commit suicide, then this wasn’t the first time Robin tried to inflict harm on himself.

“Well?” Slade’s voice pulls William out of his thoughts. “Can you save him?”

The desperation in William’s old friend’s voice makes him want to tell Slade that everything will be okay, that Robin will survive… But he can’t. Robin might not live through this. And as much as it will hurt Slade, William has to tell him the truth.

“I don’t know.” Slade’s face is pure grief, yet William continues on. “The damage is excessive, and I’m amazed that you were able to keep him alive for this long. However, I don’t believe that anyone, besides you, would be able to survive and recover from this much damage.”

Slade’s eye is suddenly filled with hope, and William starts to wonder what Slade would be hopeful about.

“So, if Robin were to receive the same serum that I received, he would survive?”

William sighs. “If he survives the process of the serum mixing and fusing with his DNA, then yes. He will almost definitely survive. The scars, however, will never go away.”

Slade’s one eye is filled with so much hope, so much longing, that William has to look away. He turns and walks across the room, going to a locked cabinet and, after inputting the correct codes and being scanned, pulls out a vial of the serum- the last bit left over from the original experiment on Slade. He puts all of the liquid into a small syringe, and places it over Robin’s heart. After a quick nod from Slade, William whispers a small plea before plunging the needle into the boy’s heart and releasing the fluid.

For seconds, minutes, hours, Slade and William watch over the small boy, waiting to see if he will be all right. The heart monitor is a faint noise in the background, yet is the most comforting sound in the room. It is the only sound that shows the Boy Wonder is still alive.

Suddenly, the heart monitor starts speeding up. William and Slade watch the teen, is he waking up? But the heart monitor is going so quickly, what’s wrong? William did exactly what he had seen done to Slade all those years ago.

Both men are on their feet now, worrying about the teenager on the table. His heartbeat is the only thing moving, only thing showing that he’s living, and William can’t help but worry. He sees Slade’s hand clench Robin’s tightly, and he feels the need to do the same.

Suddenly, Robin’s eyes snap open, and both men get a look at brilliant blue unfocused eyes.

And then, Robin screams.


	3. After Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter that I've already written. Since I wrote this and posted it on fanfiction.net, my views and writing style have changed, so if I do make any further updates they will probably be extremely different from the past chapters - and that's if I even do upload any more. Sorry, everyone.
> 
> Also, I feel bad about what I did here, but I wanted to bring Jason and Tim in somehow without them becoming Robin. I want to bring Damian in later, but he also won’t be Robin, he’ll be in the League of Assassins. Sorry all Jason and Tim lovers!

**Robin’s POV**

He opened his eyes to blackness. Just black, spreading forever, nothing changing, nothing moving. He was just hovering there, suspended in the blackness. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t feel pain, but that was okay because he wasn’t numb, either, and all Dick wanted was to not be numb. He guessed he was dead; after all, no one knew what was after death and Dick couldn’t think of a better alternative. He was… happy, kind of, even though he couldn’t feel emotions, because he had achieved what he wanted. Dick was finally free of Batman, Young Justice, the Justice League, and the Teen Titans, as well as the snobby aristocrats that he had to be around as Richard.

Yes, Dick was fine, happy with how death turned out to be. Then the people came.

First was his parents, still in their bloody and torn costumes, their bones popped out of place, looking like zombies. His father stared down at him with sad eyes, his mother hugged him and murmured that she was sorry they weren’t there when he needed them. Both had expressions- but how did they feel in the black? - and the expressions were of pity, sadness, and maybe even annoyance that he had to die before he lived. Dick couldn’t move or talk, couldn’t tell them that he was finally free of all the expectations and pains of Robin, finally able to relax. But they just gave him sad and pitiful eyes and turned away, walking back into the dark.

The next to emerge were the rest of the Graysons. Dick’s Aunt Karla, Uncle Rick, and Cousin John gathered around him. Like his parents, they looked like they had when they died, as if no time had passed- and did time pass here in the blackness? Did Dick still look the way he did when he died? They also gave him pitiful, sad glances, but they admonished him out loud as well. _“You were the last Grayson, Richard. You were supposed to make our name great, to help us live on. Why did you give up?”_ And when they were done, they too walked back into the dark, the blood dripping from them down into the nothingness.

Dick got more visitors. Old friends that had died came - _“You had so much potential”_ \- people he saved as Robin came - _“You were our hero. How could you do this?_ \- even his enemies as Robin who had died came - _“You were supposed to die at our hands, not your own.”_ Over a long amount of time- or not-time, since it didn’t pass here? - Dick had so many people visit who he knew, or who knew him, or of him, that had died. They all came with different words, but the same sad, pitying eyes, and the same message: You shouldn’t have died. You should have stayed numb. You shouldn’t have freed yourself.

With each person, Dick felt something growing inside of him. He didn’t recognize it at first, and he didn’t particularly care- he can’t care about anything here, but he’s not numb, he’s definitely not numb. But it grew, and grew, and soon it was close to its max. And then someone new showed up.

Dick had never met them before. They were an older couple, with bloody bullet holes in their bodies and bloody and torn clothes. The broken strand of pearls in the woman’s hand gave them away, though- these were Bruce Wayne’s parents, the ones who made him become the monster that he had been to Dick. He never met them- they shouldn’t be able to be there.

But they still came up to him with the same eyes as everyone else. _“Bruce did love you, he just didn’t know how to show it. He needed you, and still needs you, and so does Alfred. But you took that away from them, and from the others who love you and need you as well. You were too selfish to realize how much you were needed.”_

And Dick finally gets what’s been building up inside him since his parents appeared, and now it is completely consuming him: rage, rage that they can tell him what’s right and what’s wrong; rage that they feel like he deserved to suffer and be used. _I’m not an item, used when needed and then tossed away! I’m not a pet that is loved until it does something the owner deems wrong! What about what I feel?! If others need me, they get to treat me however they want, and I have to sit there and take it?! I’m not a freaking tool bought at a hardware store!_ But he still can’t move, he still can’t talk, and Thomas and Martha Wayne go back into the dark, just like the rest.

Dick hopes that it’s done, that visiting hours are over, but then from the black two little kids come- and Dick recognizes both of them, for they haunted his dreams ever since their deaths- _the kid I was too slow for and the kid that I failed._ The first to walk up to him, even though they both have those sad and pitying eyes, is Jason Todd.

_“You saved, me, Dick. You gave me food and water when my mother left me, and you protected me on the streets whenever the other, older boys wanted to hurt me. It’s not your fault that my mom sold me to the Joker, and it’s not your fault that he decided to blow me up. You did all you could, Dick. You had a great life, even if you couldn’t see it.”_

Timothy Drake stepped up next.

_“So what, you were busy catching a criminal when I died? You didn’t know some terrorist was going to blow up my cruise ship, Dick. You were my hero, and I respected that you were trying to save everyone that day. You thought that Slade was the greater threat, and I’m glad that you went after him instead of me. But don’t you remember watching me next door to Wayne Manor, playing with me? Was the love and respect I had for you not enough? Why did you have to do this, Dick? Jay and I were watching you save lives. Why couldn’t Robin save Dick Grayson?”_

They just stood there, watching, waiting to see what he would do- and his anger grew bigger, and bigger, and bigger, until he just _snapped_.

 _“What about what_ I _want?!”_

The two boys jumped, staring at him as he finally moved, finally got to say what he wanted to all along; _“What if I don’t_ want _to be a hero anymore?!”_

 _”Dick-”_ Jason tried to interrupt, but Robin wouldn’t let him.

 _“I don’t want to be a failure anymore! I might not have been one to you, but what about to everyone else? What about to_ me _?”_ He took a deep breath - or not a breath, because he’s still okay, he’s still dead, he’s still not numb - and continues, _“I’m a person too! I have feelings too! Am I not allowed to feel, just because I’ve had a crappy life?”_ He stares at the boys with desperation in his eyes, _“What if I don’t want to be numb anymore?”_

Understanding dawns in both the boys’ eyes. Dick knows that they’ve both had bad lives; that they’ve both had to face becoming numb to their surroundings. More than once, both boys had contemplated suicide- until they met Robin.

Dick never had anyone like that for him.

Tim turned to Dick. _“We’ll stick with you.”_

Dick lifted his head up. _“What?”_

_“We’ll stay with you. You helped us when we tried to kill ourselves.”_

Jason popped in, _“We owe you. And we want to help you.”_

_“You won’t be numb again.”_

Dick had hope in his eyes. _“Really?”_

He looked so much like a little kid. The other two nodded at him and smiled.

_“Really.”_

_”Now,”_ Jason smirked, _“let’s get back to the living world.”_

 _“We can do that?”_ Dick asked.

 _“You have someone pulling you,”_ Tim explained, _“someone who’s holding on to a piece of your essence.”_

 _“So,”_ Dick said, _“who’s holding on to me?”_

Jason looked extremely happy. _“You know those forbidden thoughts you keep having about a certain arch-enemy, the only person you were sad to leave because they were the only living person who understood you?”_

 _“What?”_ Dick gasped.

 _“Yeah.”_ Jason was so smug. _“And best part?”_

Tim groaned.

_“The feeling’s mutual.”_

Both boys were laughing at Dick as the hold strengthened on them and pulled them away through the black, going closer and closer to the light.


End file.
